After a few weeks of tragedy, sadness and stress in my life I knew that things would have to start looking up soon. It started with little baby steps...tiny moments of optimism...such as visiting my neighbor's beagle puppies last week. At three weeks old, they exude innocence and pure love. You simply can't be sad when holding a puppy and snuggling it's little black nose in your neck. That was step one. It made me smile.
Then came my day in Denver on Saturday with Alicia and Colton. Alicia was truly excited to see me, which is a miracle in itself considering some of the moments of the last few years when she wished I would leave her alone. We had an amazing day full of campus strolling, college kid meeting, sorority house viewing, Indian food eating, lacrosse and hockey spectating, and a parade! Colton had a sip of my beer at the hockey game and proclaimed how much he now likes hockey and that Molson Canadian beer wasn't too bad. Colton and I rocked out all the way home to a medley of tunes of his selection and my toleration. Although the low fuel light came on, we made it as far as the gas station, averting a disastrous end to the night. Walking the last five miles home at midnight, while certainly an adventure, would not have been my choice.
Sunday I was glad to welcome Rachel home to do her laundry, and I now have an adult child to go to dinner with who can order an alcoholic beverage while I have my glass of wine. She got asked for ID, I didn't. I guess I'm starting to look my age way too much. The waiter could have really made my day and just pretended to check mine, but he wasn't fooled by my youthful appearance evidently. After dinner, Rachel and I walked across the street to see our neighbors and those adorable beagles of joy. Rachel needed the puppy fix this time, and the puppies never fail to deliver on providing happiness. They did, however, enjoy chewing on my flip-flops. Upon arrival back at our house, our four dogs (including Shinook) mauled us with smelling noses. I'm not sure what information they pick up from this interrogation, but maybe they learned something about the puppies we visited.
Today it is supposed to be 80 degrees. A gorgeous October day in Colorado. I think the rest of the day I will work at cleaning out my garden in advance of the snowstorm that is threatening to steal these last days of Indian summer from us. We live in the Rockies after all. Today 80 degrees, two days from now, 6 inches of snow and 34 degrees for the high.
Bill gets home from hunting today or at least that's what I think. He always tries to surprise me, but with Kyle posting his facebook status for all to see, I know that they are coming back as I type this. No elk again this year but that's good with me. It will just be nice to have my husband back.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Change
Change is a word that we hear a lot.
Embrace Change. Change the World. Change is Good.
I feel like my life is changing again. Change is not as easy as it is cracked up to be. Even when it happens gradually, I struggle with it. It tries to grab me, and I feel like a dog on the end of a leash, pulling back with a stubborn frown on my face.
Even when the change is something which I know will lead to other adventures, it is still hard to give up the routine, the ordinary, the customary. Life as I knew it. .
For years my life has been consumed by kid activities. I really had no life of my own that didn't revolve around the kids. Now that one more is leaving the nest, I find myself at a crossroads. It has been easy to let others around me live their lives for so long and for me to play the supporting role. It has been my norm for the past twenty plus years and I don't know any differently.
Now what do I do? I am finding myself with more time to devote to myself and I am a bit lost.
If I have a free day, something I have dreamed of for years, I can hardly sit down and read a book for pleasure. I want to read, but that little voice in my head tells me that there is something I probably should be doing for the kids, and I actually feel guilty for spending time doing "nothing",so to speak. I have to keep convincing myself that nurturing myself by reading or daydreaming is not "nothing".
I'm just beginning to give myself permission to allow some ideas into my brain. Thoughts are taking shape as I figure out what this new life will look like. A little more "me" time. A little more "us" time for Bill and I. The thought that I might find some things to do that I will enjoy, and that the enjoyment will come from within.
Changes are a-coming.
Embrace Change. Change the World. Change is Good.
I feel like my life is changing again. Change is not as easy as it is cracked up to be. Even when it happens gradually, I struggle with it. It tries to grab me, and I feel like a dog on the end of a leash, pulling back with a stubborn frown on my face.
Even when the change is something which I know will lead to other adventures, it is still hard to give up the routine, the ordinary, the customary. Life as I knew it. .
For years my life has been consumed by kid activities. I really had no life of my own that didn't revolve around the kids. Now that one more is leaving the nest, I find myself at a crossroads. It has been easy to let others around me live their lives for so long and for me to play the supporting role. It has been my norm for the past twenty plus years and I don't know any differently.
Now what do I do? I am finding myself with more time to devote to myself and I am a bit lost.
If I have a free day, something I have dreamed of for years, I can hardly sit down and read a book for pleasure. I want to read, but that little voice in my head tells me that there is something I probably should be doing for the kids, and I actually feel guilty for spending time doing "nothing",so to speak. I have to keep convincing myself that nurturing myself by reading or daydreaming is not "nothing".
I'm just beginning to give myself permission to allow some ideas into my brain. Thoughts are taking shape as I figure out what this new life will look like. A little more "me" time. A little more "us" time for Bill and I. The thought that I might find some things to do that I will enjoy, and that the enjoyment will come from within.
Changes are a-coming.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Here I Go Again
After a vacation from posting on this blog, I am going to try this again. I realize that I like to play with it and it is relaxing. Hey, even if no one reads it, I enjoy it anyway. It's been a busy summer. Lots of changes in store for my household with the school year starting. I know that we are supposed to "embrace change", but honestly sometimes I would like things to stay the same. Oh well, onward and upward. More to come soon......
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Delving into Poetry
One of my goals for my writing class is to push the envelope a bit, so to speak, and take a risk in my writing. This piece was written from the prompt: "What does winter sound like?" I tried to write this piece as prose, but it just wasn't working for me. I then tried writing poetry, first time ever, and this piece was born. It quickly wrote itself without much prompting from me. I read it today in class and it was received well by my fellow writers, although I admit to almost hyper-ventilating while reading it.
The Night Wind
In the darkest part of the night, when no one else is moving,
Is when I listen.
With the window open, I hear the sounds of life outside,
Coyotes crying, wind howling.
I lay motionless, careful not to awaken
Those who are sleeping.
Alone with my thoughts, I lay silently
And I listen.
Eyes open, ears open, black room.
Silence, then crashing.
I hear the whiplash of wind as it
Whirls and twists the leaves
Into a pile which I will find in the morning
Huddled together for warmth.
I don’t know why I like to lay in the dark and listen.
Is it the only time that is mine and I belong to no one?
The wind and I are alone.
It does not demand an answer.
It does not ask for help.
It simply breathes.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Writing With Zest
I just started taking a writing class with the CSU continuing education arm known as "Osher Lifelong Learning". It is specifically for people over 50 to enroll and keep their minds sharp. I'm only 49 for a couple more months but they let me enroll. Not sure that I would normally be jumping up and down to be categorized into the 50+ group yet, but darn it, I wanted to take the class, so I swallowed my pride and signed up for the old folks writing class.
It is not so much a writing class as really a writing seminar. The word "class" would denote to me that we are being taught fundamentals and mechanics. This is really not the case. What we are being taught is to put our pencils onto the paper and write whatever we feel like writing. Our teacher is an inspirational leader, not in the over the top loud and motivational speaker type of way. Rather, she is a small kind grey-haired woman, a published poet. She speaks softly but I find myself hanging on her every word. She reads us poetry and memoirs in class, and she makes me realize that the art of reading out loud is truly an art. We all sit enraptured by her voice inflections and pauses. When she reads, there is nothing else in the world that matters. Our group of old writing folks sit in silence and listen, like kids gathered around the storyteller at a campfire.
Then she gives us prompts. Simple ideas to write about for ten minutes. Some of us feverishly write our thoughts, some of us stare at the walls before writing our thoughts, but we all get something down on paper. Here is the best part: We can volunteer to read out loud to the group, and most of us do. No one makes fun of anything that is written, we laugh and we sympathize. Some have cried as they read their difficult pieces, and some have made us all smile. It is an accepting group and every one there has a story to tell. It is actually a pleasure to read to the group because as soon as you finish, there are words of encouragement and praise and a sense of community. Our teacher always picks out something unique about the piece, maybe just one striking scene in it, and highlights the positive, what we might expand upon.
Each week we have an assignment to turn in the following week. This is the best type of school - there are no formal grades, and if the assignment doesn't interest you, she says "write about whatever you want". Her only rule is that each piece must be titled, or she warns that she will pick the title for us. I've always been an eager student to please the teacher, so having the assignment in place is the only prompt I need to accomplish it.
When I leave the class each Tuesday, I actually feel like I have taken a yoga or meditation class. I leave with a sense of well-being and calm. It feels good to share some of my inside thoughts and experiences with my group of old folk writers, and therapeutic in a way.
It is not so much a writing class as really a writing seminar. The word "class" would denote to me that we are being taught fundamentals and mechanics. This is really not the case. What we are being taught is to put our pencils onto the paper and write whatever we feel like writing. Our teacher is an inspirational leader, not in the over the top loud and motivational speaker type of way. Rather, she is a small kind grey-haired woman, a published poet. She speaks softly but I find myself hanging on her every word. She reads us poetry and memoirs in class, and she makes me realize that the art of reading out loud is truly an art. We all sit enraptured by her voice inflections and pauses. When she reads, there is nothing else in the world that matters. Our group of old writing folks sit in silence and listen, like kids gathered around the storyteller at a campfire.
Then she gives us prompts. Simple ideas to write about for ten minutes. Some of us feverishly write our thoughts, some of us stare at the walls before writing our thoughts, but we all get something down on paper. Here is the best part: We can volunteer to read out loud to the group, and most of us do. No one makes fun of anything that is written, we laugh and we sympathize. Some have cried as they read their difficult pieces, and some have made us all smile. It is an accepting group and every one there has a story to tell. It is actually a pleasure to read to the group because as soon as you finish, there are words of encouragement and praise and a sense of community. Our teacher always picks out something unique about the piece, maybe just one striking scene in it, and highlights the positive, what we might expand upon.
Each week we have an assignment to turn in the following week. This is the best type of school - there are no formal grades, and if the assignment doesn't interest you, she says "write about whatever you want". Her only rule is that each piece must be titled, or she warns that she will pick the title for us. I've always been an eager student to please the teacher, so having the assignment in place is the only prompt I need to accomplish it.
When I leave the class each Tuesday, I actually feel like I have taken a yoga or meditation class. I leave with a sense of well-being and calm. It feels good to share some of my inside thoughts and experiences with my group of old folk writers, and therapeutic in a way.
Monday, January 3, 2011
New Year's Resolutions
I am of the mindset that new year's resolutions are fun to think about and ponder, but that they should not happen only once a year. I have always preferred to come up with ideas about things I want to learn about, improvements I want to make, changes I want to make, or creative thoughts on a a constant basis. I write all of these random words into a notebook so that I can let them find their way from paper to my head when the right time comes along. Not everything is to be done RIGHT NOW! I don't feel like doing some of them at certain times, but I find that writing them down allows me to keep them in my radar for that time when it is right.
Right now my list of ideas includes: practice yoga regularly, learn about different species of birds, finish all those unscrapbooked years in my scrapbook, research vacations to Italy, New Zealand, Greece, Costa Rica...., walk every day, drink lots and lot of water every day, take my multivitamin every day, write down all of the books I read this year, teach my dog to shake hands, snowshoe (me, not the dog), add a couple new clients to my consulting practice, write a lot of pages in my memoirs, be more patient.....
Every day I add more things to my list as I read newspaper articles, drive around on errands, listen to the radio, interact with people. Life is interesting. Every day brings more opportunity to learn, listen, and experience.
Part of my pondering the last few days has been what to tackle first. What is most important to me right now? I'm really not sure, but soon the opportunity will present itself to me. They always do. In the meantime, I am drinking lots of water, taking my vitamins, and walking.
Happy New Year's!
If you read this and get a chance, vote for my good friends at LIFE IS LABS Rescue in the Pepsi Refresh challenge $50k grant contest - the voting widget is on my page. If you ever want to hear heartwarming stories of dogs and family and love, these are some great people who work hard to make them happen!
Right now my list of ideas includes: practice yoga regularly, learn about different species of birds, finish all those unscrapbooked years in my scrapbook, research vacations to Italy, New Zealand, Greece, Costa Rica...., walk every day, drink lots and lot of water every day, take my multivitamin every day, write down all of the books I read this year, teach my dog to shake hands, snowshoe (me, not the dog), add a couple new clients to my consulting practice, write a lot of pages in my memoirs, be more patient.....
Every day I add more things to my list as I read newspaper articles, drive around on errands, listen to the radio, interact with people. Life is interesting. Every day brings more opportunity to learn, listen, and experience.
Part of my pondering the last few days has been what to tackle first. What is most important to me right now? I'm really not sure, but soon the opportunity will present itself to me. They always do. In the meantime, I am drinking lots of water, taking my vitamins, and walking.
Happy New Year's!
If you read this and get a chance, vote for my good friends at LIFE IS LABS Rescue in the Pepsi Refresh challenge $50k grant contest - the voting widget is on my page. If you ever want to hear heartwarming stories of dogs and family and love, these are some great people who work hard to make them happen!
Friday, December 3, 2010
New York, New York
My 18 year old daughter was lucky enough to go on a "New York experience" school trip this past week with her DECA group. DECA is made up of kids who want to go into business and marketing related fields for their careers, which is what she is currently thinking about. I thought this would be a great experience for her, so even though I myself have never been to New York City (I don't think it counts that I flew in to JFK once, saw the Statue of Liberty from the air, and after landing was whisked off on a bus to Long Island, never to set foot in the actual city), I gathered up my money and paid for her to go. She is a young woman with stars in her eyes when it comes to big cities and nightlife.
The morning she left I was moody and cried a lot. At first I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't because I would miss her horribly or was sad to see her go. As a child of divorce, she has spent many days away from me, so the separation was not bothering me. In fact, I was looking forward to the welcome break from the loud music she blares from her room, the food she picks at in the fridge, and the messes she leaves around the house. As the morning went on I went to the bookstore to try to cheer myself up. What is this funk about? I figured it out in the aisles of the bookstore. I was feeling the reality that once she tastes the Big Apple, our small town in Colorado willl never be enough for her again. I know that she will come back with grandiose plans about living in New York. I just know it.
I haven't received a lot of texts from her. The first day when I texted her one too many times I guess, she sent me a text that said "Mom, I'm in NY, Stop texting me". So I stopped. A day went by with no communication. I refrained from contacting her and being the hovering mom. Then this morning I looked at my phone and saw that I missed a call from her. If you could see my face at the time, you would have seen my frown of disappointment that she had actually initiated contact and I missed it. So I sent a text, very nonchalant and non-demanding: "I saw I missed your call. Hope you are having a great time. Call when you get a chance." No mom verbage in it and very casual in a "not a big deal" sort of way.
A few minutes go by and I get a text from her with a picture message. It's the New York skyline and a caption that they are touring an advertising agency and this is the view she is looking at. Big buildings and grey sky. The view from my house is the Rocky Mountains and blue sky as far as the eye can see. Couldn't be further away from each other.
I send another text, just a little question. "Do you love New York?" I still manage to stay away from any demanding mother questions. Still staying nonchalant.
The text comes from her: "I am madly in love with this town. I'm looking at living in a loft in Times Square with a hot tub on the roof."
Do I know my daughter or what?
My reply: "Ok, just find Derek Jeter to marry you and pay for it."
Her reply to that: "Already done. Going to Vegas with him next weekend."
Looking forward to seeing her Sunday and hearing her amazing stories.
The morning she left I was moody and cried a lot. At first I couldn't put my finger on it. It wasn't because I would miss her horribly or was sad to see her go. As a child of divorce, she has spent many days away from me, so the separation was not bothering me. In fact, I was looking forward to the welcome break from the loud music she blares from her room, the food she picks at in the fridge, and the messes she leaves around the house. As the morning went on I went to the bookstore to try to cheer myself up. What is this funk about? I figured it out in the aisles of the bookstore. I was feeling the reality that once she tastes the Big Apple, our small town in Colorado willl never be enough for her again. I know that she will come back with grandiose plans about living in New York. I just know it.
I haven't received a lot of texts from her. The first day when I texted her one too many times I guess, she sent me a text that said "Mom, I'm in NY, Stop texting me". So I stopped. A day went by with no communication. I refrained from contacting her and being the hovering mom. Then this morning I looked at my phone and saw that I missed a call from her. If you could see my face at the time, you would have seen my frown of disappointment that she had actually initiated contact and I missed it. So I sent a text, very nonchalant and non-demanding: "I saw I missed your call. Hope you are having a great time. Call when you get a chance." No mom verbage in it and very casual in a "not a big deal" sort of way.
A few minutes go by and I get a text from her with a picture message. It's the New York skyline and a caption that they are touring an advertising agency and this is the view she is looking at. Big buildings and grey sky. The view from my house is the Rocky Mountains and blue sky as far as the eye can see. Couldn't be further away from each other.
I send another text, just a little question. "Do you love New York?" I still manage to stay away from any demanding mother questions. Still staying nonchalant.
The text comes from her: "I am madly in love with this town. I'm looking at living in a loft in Times Square with a hot tub on the roof."
Do I know my daughter or what?
My reply: "Ok, just find Derek Jeter to marry you and pay for it."
Her reply to that: "Already done. Going to Vegas with him next weekend."
Looking forward to seeing her Sunday and hearing her amazing stories.
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